


Playground Mercenary

by RoosterPotterGirl



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Gen, Implied Ray death, Lots of Cursing, Mention of Ray, no implied romantic relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 20:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6298468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoosterPotterGirl/pseuds/RoosterPotterGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan started young. He didn't act like a 'normal' kid. He intimidated those around him, aiming to be left alone. It worked for a time, until people offered money in exchange for him acting as a protector. This gig did, however, earn him connections for later in life. Namely, the Fake AH Crew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playground Mercenary

Most criminals admit that, no, they didn’t aspire to be criminals since childhood. Or, really, ever aspire. They just...became. The Vagabond was not one of those criminals. He started young, acting as a bodyguard to the kids that needed protection. 

Or paid well. 

Or both.

He wasn’t quite threatening. He was scrappy and hadn’t hit his growth spurt most other kids in his grade had. He didn’t play outside, and recess was the most boring time of day for him. Even his name was still that of a normal young boy; not yet Ryan, nowhere near becoming the infamous Vagabond, simply James. But then the schoolyard bully wanted to use him as a punching bag, and something snapped. He remembered being socked in the jaw, and then seeing the boy on the ground with his loose teeth on the ground beside him.

From that day on, he was left alone, swinging his legs from his preferred spot in the largest tree on the playground, looking over the playing children. Not that he was entirely popular before that point; he wasn’t talked to. The only change was that the other children, rather than ignore him, actively avoided little James Haywood. While adults presumed he felt alienated and lonely, he felt powerful. In control. Like a king, ruling with fear.

Then, suddenly, his territory was encroached upon by a child that ‘James’ wasn’t even sure he knew the name of. Or what his voice sounded like, until he spoke up.

“Um, Mr. Haywood?”

James quirked an eyebrow at his small visitor. They didn’t have much of an age gap, and yet the other boy acted like James was on an entirely different level. Referring to him with a title such as ‘Mister’ gave their meeting a formality most wouldn’t find at a playground for elementary school children. The older boy nodded, signaling the other to continue.

“Well, you scare a lot of the other kids. They all avoid you, because you have a scary look on your face all the time, and it even makes the older kids avoid you.”

“And? I’m aware of the other kids’ fear of me…Sheldon?”

“Dave, Mr. Haywood.”

The continual formal address filled James with a pride he could never get in the classroom. This other boy was unconsciously comparing James to adults, adults like Mrs. Grant who controls their actions for several hours a day, five days a week until school ends. This little boy was giving James that much power over him, as well as the rest of the children, just because they were intimidated by him.

James puffed his chest out. “What do you want, Dave? You're making other kids stare, they all know that no one talks to me. Why do you bring their fear up to me?”

“I want you to protect me! Some fifth grade boys won’t leave me alone, every day they bother me, but if you’re around they won’t! I’ve seen it, they won’t come near you!”

“So you want…protection? And what do I get for it?”

“I’ll give you my lunch for the next two months!” James was taken aback by the immediate response.

“Spare yourself the hunger," He said, noticing the boy's already starving frame. "I’ll do it for free, as long as you don’t get any ideas about us being friends once the older kids learn not to mess with you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Haywood!” He scrambled away, desperate to leave the immediate area around James, before realizing the necessity of being nearby to the disturbingly creepy child. The child shuffled back to standing below James’ seat in the tree.

Almost immediately, the perpetrator stepped forward, ready to resume his personal goal of terrorizing the younger boy. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, before his eyes followed the trunk of the tree upwards to the branches. James reveled in watching the bold nerve drain from his face, soon replaced by fear. He walked away, turning slightly to make it appear natural, in an attempt to recover himself in front of the other boys his age.

However, these interactions did not go unnoticed. As each day went boy, James got more requests for bodyguard-esque jobs, coming from little nerds with zero muscle and rich kids that wouldn’t bother dealing with questions about borrowing money. (Yes, it happened. James hid his surprise that frugality and the habit of mooching seemed to begin young. Kids these days, huh?) They got the idea that he was willing to ‘protect’ anyone that asked, simply because he could tell that little Dave didn’t have much to offer. That was not, however, the case with his followers.

“Haywood, I need your death glares. The boy that eats glue and picks his nose will not stop talking to me. I can’t have him make me look bad!” James sent a half-lidded glare at his newest customer; the brother of the boy that he’d punched, beginning all this nonsense.

“What makes you think I’ll agree? I don’t owe you. We don’t talk in class, you don’t let any kids near your Play-Doh during playtime, and sleep almost as alone as I do during nap time. Why should I?”

“Because you helped that Boulbie-”

“Dave. His name is Dave,” James interrupted with grit teeth. If you asked, he would’ve claimed that he wanted mutual respect between all classmates. In reality, he’d grown fond of the frail boy.

“I don’t care! I just want you to make the nose-picker leave me alone by looking scary!”

“And I want a reason. Why should I help you? You won’t even call other kids by their first names, who says you deserve help?”

The rich boy scowled to the ground. James stared down at him from his usual spot until the wanna-be Richie Rich pulled out several dollar bills. “I’ll give you my allowance. Eight dollars for every week he doesn’t come near me, other than assigned seats in class.”

“That, plus you let other kids play with you when there are extra toys. No more using three blocks and not letting them use the other…seventeen, no more only playing with the black clay and hoarding the rainbow of colors Mrs. Grant has, no more of any of that. You have to share.”

“You…fine! I’ll let other kids play, as long as they don’t get germs on me.” The boy turned away with a sniff, and James was tempted to warn him that a girl was in the process of tripping him.

The effects of her prank satisfied his decision not to do so.

 

He managed to make long-lasting connections in those times. To this day, Geoff mentions a dealer they have to haggle and Ryan recognizes the name. They don’t ask how he knows all these sketchy subjects; they were in the business of knowing.

Until one drunken night, they started revealing bits of details about their past.

“What kind of kid were you, Rye-bread?” Gavin asked, his drunken slur worsening his accent. “Were you absolutely mental? That kid that picked fights and sold crushed Smarties, telling druggies it was cocaine?”

Before Ryan could answer, Michael replied in his wake. “Don’t be stupid, no one starts a life of crime that young. Ray was probably the youngest, and he was already out of high school!”

“Nah, Michael, I bet Ryan was a go-getter. He was like…the playground mercenary. Punching bullies, earning a dollar per rescue, and marking his own territory at the slides. I bet the teacher listened to him!”

“Jeremy’s not entirely off,” Ryan finally interjected. The rest of the crew stared at him in disbelief.

Gavin, of course broke the silence, screeching “I told you, Micool!” The two began arguing, Michael saying Ryan was ‘full of shit.’

“When I was a kid, I punched the recess bully, and everyone left me alone out of fear. Then, these other kids started coming to me, asking for me to be their ‘protection’ by letting them hang around me for some kind of payment, from candy to money. My job was mainly scaring off their predators with a small glare, a threatening fist here and there, the works. Most of those connections I have are from either me or them moving around, we met, and they were one of my customers.”

“No fucking way!” Jack burst out laughing.

“Damn!” Geoff joined in, his giggling fit making his appearance less menacing.

“Holy fuck, Ryan! You were a mob boss in the sixth grade!” Michael slammed his fist on the table, completely in awe of his fellow crew member.

“Actually, it started in like third or fourth.”

“God damn!” Gavin nearly fell out of his chair, jumping out before it hit the ground. Abashedly, he picked it up and sat down again.

“That actually reminds me of a story,” Jeremy began, and they all collected their wits from Ryan’s recollection of elementary school to listen. “My parents were moving around, hiding from sharks because they were in debt. I moved to this small town in elementary school, I think, and there was this boy that everyone avoided, several years ahead, like probably in tenth, it was one of those schools that basically had all the grades in one. So, I go up to him, and immediately he asks why I want his help. I’m super confused, ask for clarification, and he’s all, ‘kids only talk to me when they want something, usually protection, so what do you want?’ It was freaky as shit, especially because of his weak frame, like he was small. But the other kids seemed terrified of him! I knew I wasn’t going to be sticking around long, so I didn’t dig, and I forgot pretty easily. Ryan just reminded me of him!”

“Jeremy, I remind you of that kid because that kid was me.” The other four erupted into laughter at this, while Jeremy’s jaw dropped. 

“WHAT!? THAT WAS YOU!?” Jeremy seemed to be questioning everything he’d encountered before joining the crew. “DOES THAT MEAN THAT THE BRITISH EXCHANGE STUDENT IN MY SECOND GRADE CLASS WAS GAVIN!?”

“What?” Gavin squawked. “Hell no! I didn’t visit the states until…blimey, maybe it was me! That’s bloody insane!” He started laughing harder.

“GOD DAMMIT, DID I MEET ALL OF YOU?” 

“You know, there was a short little guy that shadowed me in high school!” Geoff smirked over at Jeremy.

“I SHADOWED YOU!?”

"No, dumbass! We didn’t meet. You just happened to meet Ryan, which isn’t a surprise given your excessive moving, and there happened to be a Brit in one of your classes. No big deal!”

“Though!” Gavin interjected. “When I was an exchange student, there was a boy similar to who Rye and Lil’ J are describing! I’d come over during their summer breaks, and the family I lived with took me to the park that all the kids went to. He was sitting up high in the biggest tree, lookin’ all angry, and a bunch of skinny pricks were sitting at the base, they didn’t seem too happy but no one moved, and there were a bunch of big guys glaring at them all, as if they couldn’t go near the tree for some reason-”

“That was me, too. How many kids do you think were frightening enough to become a bodyguard for all the kids that couldn’t stand up for themselves? If anyone else has similar stories, just presume it’s me.”

“Well, there was a kid that scared everyone, but he wasn’t an acting-bodyguard. At my prom, I was a middle school kid taken by a freshman or sophomore, some senior girl brought a date from a different school, like a college probably, I think they were long-distance and he flew in just for this, but he was the most popular attendee for the girls, least for the boys, but not because he was stealing their girls, he was fucking insane and the girls thought it was ‘hot’. I tried to talk to him, and he just glared at me until I left. He seemed pretty uncomfortable with all the attention he was getting, and wasn’t used to his scary act not working.”

“God fucking dammit, that was me too! Stop meeting me, assholes!”

“So the lads all met Ryan? Ha, small world!” Jack threw a shit-eating grin in Jeremy’s direction, given he was still ‘freaking the fuck out.’

“Hey guys, I met Ryan too! There was a fucking nerd that couldn’t talk that was at the same college summer program as me!” Geoff cackled at his own joke, while Ryan seemed to think seriously about it.

“I mean, I fucked up a skit for an actor’s camp I visited when I was looking at applying to a college in Missouri. I’d fumbled over one of Shakespeare’s soliloquies.”

“I…what?” Geoff stared at Ryan, dumbfounded. “That actually was you?”

“I’d assume so. There was an asshole that laughed when I messed up, and then came up to ‘congratulate’ me.”

“THAT WAS ME! I FUCKING HATE THIS!” Geoff left the room, nearly forgetting his drink. Jack had to call him back for the mustachioed man to retrieve it.

“That only leaves Jack!” Michael shouted. “You had to have met him, it’d be insane if we all did and you didn’t!”

“What’s insane is that we’ve all met Ryan before coming to Los Santos and joining the crew!” Jeremy’s voice had raised so much in pitch, he discovered a new octave. 

“I bet that Ryan set it all up! He’s absolutely mental, I bet he’s got a time machine like some mad genius in his secret warehouse, and he went back in time to meet all of us!”

“Yes, Gavin, I invented a time machine, which even the top-paid scientists of the world couldn’t do, and used it only to meet your stupid-ass when we were children.”

“He’s admitted it!” Gavin stood straight up, knocking his chair back onto the ground as it had before. Surprised, Michael took a second to collect himself before smacking Gavin’s arm as punishment.

“Don’t be fucking stupid, it’s all just coincidence.”

“I wouldn’t put it past the maniac to somehow know as children that we’d work together in the future-well, the present-whatever! He totally planned it!” 

“SHUT UP, GAVIN!” The British lad jumped at his friend’s roar.

“No, no, I think this was fate.”

“You shut up too, Jeremy!”

Having spent this whole time pondering, Jack finally spoke up. “There was a kid in my Economics class in High School that didn’t talk much. He was a year below me, sophomore to my junior, advanced kid; he never spoke up but was usually the one that made the curve by making the highest grades on tests. He was named James, I think.”

“That actually wasn’t me, thank god.”

“No, yeah, I didn’t think so. He hung out with a different James, he was fucking terrifying. Ended up Prom King.”

“Now that was me!” Ryan seemed to think of this as entertainment, watching the lads (namely Gavin and Jeremy) react to this knowledge. The ruckus this caused pushed Jack to follow Geoff out of the room, just much less annoyed.

“I wonder if Ray had met Ryan.” 

“When I was in seventh grade,” Ryan began, interrupting the sad silence Gavin had caused. “I had Hispanic neighbors with a paler son, he was getting ready to go into Kindergarten but they had jobs so my family babysat him. From a young age, he was obsessed with games. I think I might’ve influenced a young Ray.”

“Damn! Oh, what about B Team?”

“There was a girl that could’ve been Lindsay, otherwise no. Solid no, I’ve never met a Kdin, that’s for sure.”

“I bet $50 bucks you’ve met B Team as well!” Gavin announced.

“Fuck you, you’re on!”

“I’ll add a crisp ten dollars to this bet.”

“Man you’re cheap Lil J!”

“Fuck off; I just started getting a fair share from these heists!”

“Maybe you should’ve become business partners with Ryan,” Michael snickered. “Get some nice quarters saved up.”

“Nah, I spent all that on games and candy.”

The four bickering crew mates moved towards the part of the apartment B Team claimed as their own, making predictions of just how Ryan might’ve met them.

“I bet Matt tried to steal donuts when Ryan worked as a cashier at some shitty corner store!”

“Nah, boi, Matt was one of the little suckers that paid Ryan to be his bodyguard!”

“Rye, did you ever make the payments blowjobs?”

“Why? Are you hoping you didn’t miss out when you’d met me?”

“Christ, no!”

“Then why ask, Gavin?”

“I was wondering if you got blowjobs from second graders!”

“Gavvy-wavvy started having gay thoughts when he first met Ryan!”

“Sod off!”

 

“Yeah, I met Ryan. I paid him to make another kid leave me alone.” Matt confirmed, confused at the question.

“Told you!” Michael boasted.

“Wait, how long have you known that you’d met Ryan? How soon did you realize?” Jeremy asked, puzzled.

“I knew almost as soon as I was hired. Same annoyed look in his eyes.”

“Oh, Kdin!” Gavin ran towards the hacker, nearly topping into the man once too close before stopping. Kdin sighed deeply before asking what Gavin wanted.

“Did you ever meet a kid named James that intimidated everyone? Maybe he sat in a tree with sad-looking kids sitting under him?”

“What the fuck, no.” Silence fell over the lads. Finally, Jeremy spoke up. 

“We have to fire Kdin. She wasn’t met to be in the crew, she never met Ryan before being hired.”

“I’ll go tell Geoff that he has to fire Kdin!” Michael offered, seemingly ready to actually run to tattle. Kdin simply gave them a disturbed face, rolled her eyes, and returned to her work.

“Oh, what if Ryan met anyone at the LSPD?”

“Gavin, even him meeting the six of us is too unbelievable, without him having met Sorola.”

“I might’ve met Burns and Hullum, actually.”

“RYAN, WHAT THE FUCK!?”

“Gavin, if you suggest that I planned it again, I’ll kill you.”

The lad in question hurriedly rushed away, not willing to call the normally masked man on his bluff.

“Ryan, remind me to not think about this ever again.” This seemed to act as Jeremy’s goodbye, because he walked to his personal room, followed by a still-laughing Michael.


End file.
